It was late morning.
The intense sunlight made Yuan Xing open his eyes, and he instinctively wanted to call Chen Ji, but found his mouth was gagged again.
Yuan Xing wanted to raise his hand to remove the cloth from his mouth. Looking down, he found his body wrapped tightly in layers of hemp rope, binding him like a zongzi. Turning his head, he saw Chen Ji lounging in a chair, basking in the sun.
Yuan Xing: "Mmm, mmm, mmm!"
Chen Ji kept his eyes closed, completely ignoring him.
Sunlight bathed him, forming a thin layer of radiance. The sunlight transformed into streams to nourish the sword seeds, the six scar-covered sword seeds gradually fading under the sunlight's nourishment.
Chen Ji roughly estimated, it would take seven days of sword cultivation to restore them to their original state.
At that moment, outside the courtyard, the sound of bells from ox carts and mule carts filled the air, accompanied occasionally by the laughter of children — it was lively.
